The Things We Water

“Quit looking at me.”

“You quit looking at me.”

“I’m not even looking at you!” I laughed, side-eyeing Matti as we walked to my truck.

“I can feel you looking at me,” he argued with a sniff that had less to do with him being sick and more with him just being a pest. This was the first time he’d left the room since he’d gotten the brown plague the day before last. He looked like he’d been haunting abandoned hospitals for a century based off the dark circles around his eyes and the gauntness of his cheeks. This was the thinnest I’d ever seen him, and I had known him in his scrawny boy years.

And right at that moment, he was being the same pain in the ass I knew and loved because his heart was in the right place.

There was no hiding that I was sad they were leaving—not from his nose and not from eyes that had known me for most of our lives. I wouldn’t cry about it, I didn’t think. This wasn’t our first goodbye—not even our twentieth—and it wasn’t going to be our last either. It didn’t mean it wasn’t hard though. Every time was.

This time might just suck a little bit more because we’d lost two days spending time with each other while he’d been sick, and… for whatever reason, this goodbye felt different. A little more permanent. A little more scary, for me at least.

Duncan and I couldn’t exactly load into my truck and drive over if we suddenly wanted to.

I huffed at him. “If I was, it’s because you look like something that climbed out of a well.”

He huffed back as we got to my car, but he didn’t deny his appearance.

Maybe someone would try and exorcise him at the airport. “That’ll teach you never to ignore me again.” I nudged him with my elbow.

Matti snickered as I opened the truck bed and he grunted, lifting Sienna’s bag, then his, into it. I’d offered to carry it. He elbowed me back before slamming the tailgate shut and raising his eyebrows at me. I raised my eyebrows right back at him, earning me a smile and a hand on each shoulder.

“Sorry we didn’t get to spend more time together,” my oldest friend apologized.

“It’s okay.” I set my hand on one of his. “Thank you for coming with us. For helping me find this place. For everything.” That was the simplest way of putting it, wasn’t it?

“You going to be okay?”

“I think so,” I told him honestly, hearing the front door close. Sienna had gone into the nursery to tell Duncan goodbye one last time since he couldn’t come with us. Leaving the ranch wasn’t worth the risk, and he had a comfortable place to stay at the nursery. Matti had said bye earlier. “The donut is happy so far, and I hope I will be too.”

His perma-smile drooped. “When I first got here, everyone gave me a lot of breathing room the first few months, Nina, to give me time to get my bearings. Don’t take people giving you space too personally, all right? They didn’t say anything, but I remember them discouraging residents from getting too close to new people until their three months are up.”

I nodded at him, not surprised at all that Sienna had relayed to him that other than some of the parents here and the few people Henri had introduced me to, no one had come by to say hello.

Even though Sienna still hadn’t been feeling like herself the day before, we had gone to visit the two closest towns to the ranch after dropping Duncan off at the nursery. We’d spent the whole morning and most of the afternoon checking out the bigger town almost an hour away, buying groceries at the big box stores they had, and then stopped at the much smaller stores half an hour from the ranch, just seeing what they had so I could plan for future trips.

When we got back, I’d helped Maggie in the nursery again while Sienna checked on Matti and took a nap. After dinner, we’d spent time in my room, sprawled on the bed, watching television and talking while Dunky napped after another exciting day with his new friends. It had been a good last day with one of my favorite people.

Now I had to say bye to them for the time being.

The expression on Matti’s face got even more serious. “I’d planned to go with you and see if we could find some of the people I knew when I lived here, but none of them came to say hi either.” He scowled. “Glad I didn’t waste my damn time keeping in touch with any of them.”

I smiled up at his protectiveness, and he kept right on scowling.

“If anyone is mean to you⁠—”

I took a step forward and wrapped my arms around the middle of him, pressing my cheek to his shoulder for maybe the fifty-thousandth time in my life. “I’ll write down their names and you can bring some of those hot dogs to share with them.”

His laugh was weaker than normal, but it was still all Matti. He hugged me back. “If you aren’t happy, say the word and we’ll figure out another option, yeah?”

I nodded against him.

Matti pulled back. “I’m being serious.”

For once in his life, he was. “I know you are.”

“We were talking already, and we’re going to check our work schedules and see when we can come back.”

“Just let me know. You know I get that you’re both busy.”

“I know you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself and Duncan”—he thumped my shoulder—“but someone has to check on you.”

“Yeah, we have to check on our Nina,” Sienna piped in from a few feet away as she approached us from the direction of the clubhouse.

But it was the man following her that surprised me, and I knew I wasn’t the only one when Matti’s head jerked.

“I sent you a text. We’re leaving,” my best friend said to his cousin.

Henri, who I hadn’t seen yesterday at all, stopped to the side of us, a beaten-up stainless steel water bottle hanging from his index finger. In jeans and another long-sleeved T-shirt, he looked like a different man from the one I’d seen running around the forest after a long shift with LOBO COUNTY SHERIFF’S DEPARTMENT stitched onto the breast of his shirt. “I got it.” His gaze caught mine, holding it steady in a way that made me feel he was trying to figure out if I was still the same person I’d been the last time we’d seen each other. “I’ll come with you, if you don’t mind, Cricket.”

I forced myself not to peek at Matti because I had to put all my effort into not seeming shocked in Henri’s face. “It’s fine by me…?”

He blinked. “Why are you asking it like it’s a question?”

Play it cool, Nina. “Because I figured you’re busy, and I’m surprised you’re coming?” I tried again. I’d learned from Franklin at dinner that Henri hadbeen working a ton of overtime lately—it wasn’t just an excuse he gave Matti. I had also learned at the same time that the elder had made plans to leave later today. He had something he needed to “look into” had been the only explanation he’d given the night before, still acting sketchy, even though I wasn’t sure if I was imagining it or if he was just a suspicious person by nature.

I really wasn’t sure what to think about that bracelet he had on and what it might mean. I wasn’t in a position to ask about Franklin though, and I knew it. It might just always have to be a mystery I lived with, unless he decided to share his backstory with me.

I wasn’t going to hold my breath in that case… unless I could weasel it out of Shiloh once he was done with his prison sentence. He’d already proved to have trouble keeping a secret, and I wasn’t above getting innocent information out that way. We’d see.

Henri raised that left eyebrow a millimeter. “You still answered it like it’s a question.”

I scratched my neck. “Okay?”

It was Matti who laughed, his head ducking down to give me a peck on the temple. “You’re a pain in the fucking ass, Nina, but we should get going. I want to check my bag.”

I said, “I’m not a pain in the ass.”

And Henri agreed, “She’s not a pain in the ass.”

I smiled, pleased at him defending me again, even if it was unexpected.

Then he ruined it. “She’s just a brat.”

I looked at him, and he looked at me.

But there was that sparkle I’d seen in his eyes the other times he’d tapped into his unexpected funny bone.

Why he went back and forth between acting like we were familiar with each other—old friend-ish— and then acting like he could barely tolerate me was beyond my mental capacity. There was also the chance that I might have been overthinking it since I did that with everything else around here. Maybe it had nothing to do with me and it just depended on his mood. But people were complicated, and there was a chance, if I spent enough time pondering when he acted the way he did and who was around when he did it, it might bring those actions to light in a different way. He wasn’t a mean man. I really didn’t think he was trying to hurt my feelings.

And honestly, I wanted one single person here in my corner. Other than the kids I’d met at the nursery, and Maggie the teacher, who I really needed to have an awkward conversation with sooner rather than later, Henri seemed to be my only other “friend” at the moment. If this was how he wanted things to be, then that was fine. We were going to be a mullet, I guess. Business in the front and a party in the back when no one was looking.

All right, maybe it was going to hurt my feelings, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t recover from.

“All right, in that case, let’s go,” I said, discreetly eyeing Henri standing there as I moved around them and headed to the driver’s side.

“Shotgun,” Sienna called out before hip checking her husband out of the way to get into the front seat.

The two cousins were already in the back seat by the time I got behind the wheel, and I handed Sienna my phone so she could put the address for the airport into the navigation app. The community parking lot was mostly empty, with only about ten cars parked.

It was strange how I never saw anyone walking to and from their cars.

I tried to keep the suspicion in my body so my friends wouldn’t sense it and then ask questions about it, and it must have worked because the second we were through the gates—they were motion-sensor activated on the way out, we’d learned yesterday—Si put my music streaming app on, and we sang along under our breaths, the back seat oddly quiet other than the near constant buzzing of what sounded like incoming texts. One glance in the rearview mirror confirmed that Henri was glued to his phone. Beside him, Matti was sprawled sitting up, still looking like the ghost of Christmas past.

The airport wasn’t close, and according to the directions, it was going to take over an hour to get there through the winding mountain roads. We made it about twenty minutes before Sienna snickered for no reason. I lifted my chin at her.

“Remember that time we went on the road trip to see my grandma and we got that flat tire and had to hitchhike because we didn’t have service?” she brought up.

“Oh, that poor dog in the back seat was shaking and wouldn’t stop crying, he was so scared of you, and the lady was worried he was sick,” I remembered.

Matti’s head appeared between the seats. “You hitchhiked? When?”

It took the rest of the drive to tell Matti the story about the trip we took across three states during a summer we spent with Sienna’s grandma. We had done that twice, and each time had a funny story behind it that we cracked up about. How neither one of us had ever told Matti about it was surprising, but laughing with them was better than listening to all the music in the world.

Unfortunately, it also made the time go by too fast, and we were talking about an armadillo we’d almost gotten into a wreck trying to avoid years ago when I pulled up to the drop-off section of the tiny regional airport.

We got out, and Sienna pulled me into a hug the second she shut the passenger door. “We’ll come visit soon,” she promised.

I tucked my cheek against hers. “If, or when, Duncan figures out how to hide his tail or his eyes, we’ll be the ones coming over.” I hoped she wasn’t holding her breath though.

“We’re only a phone call away—shh,” she dropped her voice suddenly. “Matti’s telling Henri something.”

If she could hear them, they could hear her, but I got her point. That was my girl. “What are they saying?” I fought the urge to peek at them too. That would be too obvious.

“He told him… that he’d appreciate it if he kept an eye on you… that you used to take care of him and… huh, that’s true,” she muttered.

“What?”

“That you’ll take care of other people but not yourself… shh, I’m still listening.”

Maybe there was some truth to that, but he didn’t need to tell freaking Henri about it.

“Matti said that if things aren’t working out, to tell him….” Sienna rattled off before suddenly kissing one cheek, then the other, acting like nothing had just happened. Her voice went back to a normal volume too. “Call if you need anything. Got it?” She winked, but her cheeks were pink.

What was that about? I narrowed my eyes at her. I’d text her later and get the scoop. For now, I kissed her cheeks right back. “Yes, ma’am.” I squeezed her muscular biceps. “Love you, Si. Thank you for coming all the way here with us.”

Her eyes started glittering, and I was sure that if I had the ability to smell her emotions, I would’ve gotten confirmation I wasn’t the only one who was sad. “We’d do anything for you and the baby. We love you. I love you.”

We hugged again, holding on just a little tighter, a little longer.

Done with their conversation, Matti came over and held out his arms wide. “Be a good girl, Jaws.”

“Shut up.” I laughed and stepped into his embrace, hugging him tight. He’d definitely lost weight. “Love you. Thank you for everything.”

I could feel him kissing the top of my head. “We’re only a call away,” he reminded me as he pulled back and gave me an intense look. “If anyone tries to hurt you, do what you have to, understand?”

Pressing my lips together, I nodded at him.

“I’m serious.”

“I know,”I told him. “I promise. I’ll do what I have to.”

He didn’t look like he totally believed me—because he knew me well enough to feel that way—but he nodded after a moment. Then he lifted his finger and said, “Come here, I want to tell you one more thing.”

I narrowed my eyes but stepped closer. “If you burp in my ear….”

“I’m not,” he insisted.

I didn’t believe him but all right. “Yes?”

“Closer.”

Okayyy. I did.

He glanced to both sides—Henri and Si were behind him—and mouthed, Get my cousin to marry you.

“Huh?” I almost barked, pretty sure there was no way I’d read his lips correctly.

From the expression he gave me, I knew I had, in fact, not misunderstood. Then, with his face so grave, he said clearly, “You trust me, don’t you?”

That was a stupid question, and I told him so with my own expression.

Marry Henri, he mouthed that time, not tiptoeing at all around it.

There was no hiding the way my heart started beating faster at what he was telling me to do, and we both knew it from the way he made his eyes wide at me before leaning in and giving me another big hug. I was so tense and distracted—and regretful that I hadn’t talked to him about it even though I’d literally thought about it—I barely managed to sneak in one more hug of my own before he pulled back.

The loaded expression he shot me made a knot form in my throat before he turned and went for the bags in the bed of the truck, while Si scrunched up her face, clearly wondering what was going on. I could see Henri’s attention on us, so I shrugged and hugged her one last time. My friends waved as they pulled their carry-ons behind them to the terminal.

Matti stopped halfway there and turned around. “Someone needs to give Henri a hard time. You got this, Nina?” he hollered.

He’d just suggested I marry him, and now he was telling me to give him a hard time?

I blinked and bowed. “It would be an honor,” I told him with a smile that felt a little shaky on my face. I might kill him after all, I thought, as they kept going.

“Love you!” Sienna shouted right before going through the sliding doors. “Henri, take care of my girl!”

I blew her a kiss before we headed to my truck.

Exactly two seconds later, Henri, who had taken the front passenger seat, shifted to face me. I was staring straight ahead.

I couldn’t look at him.

I couldn’t look at anything.

“Why are you crying?” His voice was gruff. “And what’d Matti say that worried you?”

Pressing the tip of my middle finger to the outside corner of my eye, I sniffled. I opened my mouth to answer, had to swallow, then tried again. “I hate saying goodbye.” I skipped his other question, not that I was expecting him to forget about it. I just needed to deal with one thing at a time, and right now, being sad was the winner.

“You were fine five minutes ago.”

I pressed my finger to my other eye. “I know, but I’m not going to cry in front of them. They worry enough as it is.” I sniffled again and attempted to hold back the tears while ignoring the way he turned even more in his seat, like he wanted a better view to watch me cry. “You never know when the last time you’re going to see someone is,” I tried to explain. “I think about that all the time with my mom and dad.”

There was a pause, then, “They’re both healthy, Nina.”

I dabbed at my eye again. “I don’t have your nose, so I can’t tell that, but that isn’t what I mean. You never know what’s going to happen a week from now, much less two minutes from now. And I love them.” That came out like a croak. I had to swallow to get my voice under control. “I get upset every time. Please don’t tell them. I think they think I’m tougher than I really am.” I stopped. “But they might also know and they let me get away with it.” I could see that happening too.

He didn’t agree not to tattle, so I had to peek at him.

“Please, Henri?” I whispered.

Those light-colored eyes narrowed, but he nodded after a minute. “You didn’t live close to them even before Duncan, did you?” he asked.

“No.” With my eyes blurring from the tears I was struggling to hold back, I was thankful we were still parked. “Because I don’t like living in cities the way they do, and they don’t like smaller towns, like I do. We compromise to see each other. I need to stop tearing up. Duncan hates it when I cry. I don’t want him to worry.” But with that thought, even more tears spilled onto my cheeks.

Silently, Henri kept studying me, and I sighed. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I’ll stop in a minute.”

“You aren’t making me uncomfortable.”

I bit the inside of my cheek as another tear spilled over my bottom eyelash.

I watched his gaze follow it down my jaw, his mouth going dang near flat. “You smell like cinnamon right now,” he stated bluntly.

“I do?” I asked, sniffling. I hadn’t cried a whole lot in front of people, but no one who had witnessed it had ever commented on the way it smelled. They would have said something… wouldn’t they?

He made a positive sound in his throat.

“I’m sorry.”

There was more shifting, another pause, then, “What are you sorry for?”

“The smell.” I could feel his gaze on my skin.

“You’re apologizing for smelling like cinnamon?” he asked slowly.

I used my knuckle to dab at the corner of my eyes some more. “The way you said it…” I tried to hold in the couple more tears threatening my eyeballs, but it didn’t work. “You made it sound like you don’t like it. It’s just been a lot of change in a short amount of time, and it hit me all of a sudden, Fluff.”

There went my voice again.

I could not lose it. I needed to drive, I reminded myself. What was I getting upset about? Missing my friends was one thing. But he didn’t like the way I smelled? Since when was that new? I dried the parts of my face I could reach with my shoulder, then took a deep breath. “It’s fine. I’m just emotional because I’m upset since seeing them from now on will be more complicated, and I’m worried it’ll be a while, but we’ll figure it out. We always do. I’ll stop crying in a minute, I swear.”

He didn’t say a word, and when a minute passed and I still hadn’t stopped, his sigh filled the cabin.

Stop it, Nina.

It’s okay to be sad. It’s okay to be worried about being on your own surrounded by strangers. It’s okay to lose one more thing from a life you loved.

Maybe that’s what I was really the most worked up about. Losing that one more thing so freaking soon. For all my big talk, accepting change wasn’t one of my strengths in life. Maybe it was some trauma response from the time that Matti’s presence had disappeared from my life without a warning, or maybe I just loved my friends, and everything going on right now was a lot to handle in general. It could be both.

I wiped at my face some more, that time not even trying to be dainty about it. I used my whole palm. Then I wiped it on my pants and did it again, trying so dang hard not to make some real unladylike sound. Get ittogether.

“Henri?” I asked in a wobbly voice after a second.

His “hmm?” came out like more of a grumble.

I moved my hand enough so I could peer at him through my fingers. “Sorry for biting you.”

“You….”

I didn’t think he believed me from the way he was frowning and glaring. And I must have been too focused on it—his dark pink lips—that I didn’t see his fingers coming for me until his palm cupped the back of my neck.

Before my body could do anything other than process the fact that this man was being affectionate with me—nice to me—his voice came out all rumpled velvet as he murmured, “They’ll be back soon.”

They had both reassured me of the same thing, but coming out of Henri’s mouth, it was soothing for some reason.

He kept going. “Matti said they were going to try for next month for a weekend.”

Matti. That pain in my butt. What he’d mouthed to me was burned into my retinas. Get Henri to marry me?

What was he thinking dropping that on me and then walking away? We needed an hour-long discussion, minimum, to go over something like that. Some conversations couldn’t be had over text, and now I was going to have to wait who knew how long to get him to explain why he would’ve brought that up. Why that would even enter his brain. Sure I’d considered it. Briefly.

But from Matti himself?

Unless….

My friend was a lot of things, but he was a realist. He was one of the most impulsive people I’d ever met, but at the same time, logic was known to steer his thoughts and actions when it mattered.

Hmm.

There had to be a reason he would throw his cousin into the ring.

What did he know that I didn’t? I wiped at my face when a couple more tears beaded along my eyelashes. I hiccupped just as a very low growl and the flexing of fingers at the back of my neck had me flicking my eyes toward the man who was trying to make me feel better. His eyebrows were knitted together, lips pressed tight.

Or maybe Matti had lost his mind suggesting Henri tie his life to mine when he could barely sit beside me.

“I’m sorry!” I reached for the door. “I can’t help it. Let me roll down the window.”

His frown got even worse. “What do you need to roll down the window for?”

I grazed my fingers over the buttons on my door lightly, not pressing them in yet. “You look like you’re mad right now.” I paused. “Because of the cinnamon smell.”

Or that was what I thought before those light-colored eyes bounced around my face. I watched his throat bob, his jawline getting more defined. There was no missing the way he seemed to force his teeth to unclench before gritting out, “That’s not it.”

It wasn’t?

“I….” His thick throat worked, like even saying words was difficult. “You crying… your tears… makes me want to bite you.”

I blinked very, very slowly.

“You smell like a cookie when you do it.”

But werewolves didn’t even eat cookies.

I lifted my face and wiped at it some more. Henri was looking right at me. Glaring, even. I pointed at him. “I swear, if you bite me, I’ll bite you back.”

I didn’t think it was my imagination that some of the tension on Henri’s face disappeared.

“Not as hard as you can bite me, but I’ll try my best,” I warned him. “I used to give Matti bruises when we were kids. You remember that?” Not that I ever got in trouble over it. His mom used to say a nip got a message across better than any word ever could.

“No,” he took his time answering. “You bit him?”

“His mom told me to.” I had loved her almost as much as I’d loved my parents.

He didn’t exactly look like he believed me.

A honk from behind had me blinking and remembering where we were. I put the truck into Drive and pulled onto the road. I waited until I was back on the highway that would take us to the ranch to speak again. “Right after his magic presented and he started turning into a fluffball, Matti started nipping me. Duncan’s gotten me too, and that hurt like hell. I’m glad we got over that phase.” I imagined how much it would hurt to have those full-grown adult teeth do the same. “I don’t like pain.” I gave him a side-eye. “You could nibble instead?”

His lips slightly parted. “You’re telling me to nibble on you?” He sounded like he’d swallowed nails.

“Instead of biting me,” I clarified.

Henri faced forward. His hands fisted and then released over and over again as we pulled up to a stoplight.

Maybe I’d made this weird. That hadn’t been my intention. I’d just been joking. “You know what you remind me of right now? There are these movies about vampires that you probably haven’t watched, but I’m sure you’ve heard about them. The vampire likes the way the girl in the movie smells, and he’s like, ‘Grr, she’s the best thing I’ve ever smelled,’ but he looks constipated instead of hungry.”

Both of Henri’s eyebrows rose up a whole millimeter if not more. “I’m not going to bite you or… nibble on you.” He side-eyed me. “Vampires usually do look constipated.”

My mouth dropped. “They’re real?”

Those thick eyebrows stayed right where they were. “You didn’t know? There aren’t a lot of them, but they’re around.”

I made the closest sound to a squeal that I was capable of. Vampires! They were real!

Why wouldn’t they be?

Like he could sense the million and one questions suddenly going through my mind, Henri raised a hand. “I don’t know much about them other than they drink blood and they’re more sensitive than allergic to light.”

My next semi-squeal was a little quieter, but it still counted, and the corner of his mouth twitched like he wasn’t totally irritated with my shock at vampires existing.

Were they good-looking? Were they immortal? How much blood did they drink? And why was that what I was curious about? “Can I tell Sienna about them?” I whispered, the secret feeling huge in my truck cab.

Henri shrugged, pinching the tip of his nose between his thumb and the middle of his index finger while he turned toward the windshield.

Another wave of guilt went through me. “Want me to turn the vents away from blowing on me so that my smell isn’t circulating so much?”

He was still focused forward. “No.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” he insisted, not really sounding that sure.

I reached over and moved the vent anyway, ignoring his sigh.

And here Matti wanted me to convince him to marry me. What was he thinking? What had I been thinking? Henri and I couldn’t even sit in the front together.

That was kind of depressing because I really did want him to like me, at least as a friend.

I was going to have to tell Matti how dumb of an idea it was the second I could do it in privacy, because the last thing I needed was for someone to overhear us talking about that.

Plus, why hadn’t he or Sienna or my parents ever said anything about my scent when I cried? I didn’t get upset that often, but I had definitely done it around them, more than once. If anything, they hugged me tighter than usual when I was sad.

Dang it, just the reminder of my loved ones made me tear up all over again.

Change was good.Good change was great. We had gotten what we needed being allowed to live here.

What was going on with me? First, I was acting like the magic in the forest was catnip. Then I was acting like I’d never seen a man before while I was in Henri’s presence. And now I was weepy?

This was a lot, and anybody would cry over everything that had happened and everything that would continue to happen over the next few months or years, I told myself, trying to feel better about why I was so all over the place emotionally.

I had to be strong and… I couldn’t drive if I couldn’t see through my tears, dang it.

Henri’s sigh filled the cab, but his voice came out almost as gentle as when he was talking to the kids. “Why are you really getting upset, Cricket? Because of Matti and Sienna?”

He was making it worse being so nice. I scratched my throat. “Y-Yes and no.”

Didn’t I know better by now? It wasn’t that I didn’t think there was no one in the world who cared about me, there was, but those people had chosen to be there. Worked to be there. More than anything, they wanted to.

And then there was everyone else.

When you stayed away from people, you didn’t give them the opportunity to push you away.

Being alone-alone was different than feeling alone in a place surrounded by people who didn’t want you there.

Having to pretend to fit in when you knew you didn’t, and so did everyone else, was hard. No wonder I couldn’t stop my eyes from watering. Stop it.

“In two blocks, there’s a diner on the right,” Henri said, still using that same soft voice that was quickly turning into a weakness of mine. His cousin’s way of making me feel better was to make me laugh. Sienna’s methods included tickling. Henri wasn’t the person I expected to actually be nice. “Pull in the parking lot.”

There was no asking; he was telling me to. There was a clear difference between the two. But…. “I’m fine,” I promised, using my shoulder to dab at my face. “I just need a sec. I can still see.”

A big hand came out of my peripheral vision, and for a moment, I thought he was going to put it on the steering wheel and try and take control.

But this man, who I knew and yet didn’t know, set his fingers over mine and gave them a little squeeze. They were warm. “I’m not asking if you’re fine or if it’s safe for you to drive right now. Pull over at the diner,” he ordered in his sneaky, bossy werewolf voice that made me feel like I needed to listen to him.

The annoying part? It worked. Sniffling, I drove the next block, finding the sign for Howling Hill Diner—was that on purpose?—and I turned into it. I hadn’t even realized we were already in Lobo Springs, the small town closest to the ranch. We were on the outskirts of it, but we were in the limits, I was pretty sure.

The second I put the truck into Park, Henri reached for the keys, turned them, and followed that up by undoing his seat belt. Then he reached over, undid mine and sat back.

“When a pup is upset,” he started to say, widening his legs as much as he could once he’d leaned back into place, “a cuddle usually makes them feel better.”

I… I was no puppy, and I almost told him that, but it wasn’t like he didn’t know it already. Butttt I was never going to say no to affection, especially not from someone I knew, much less when that someone looked like Henri, and gave off the kind of comforting, stable vibes he did. The man was built to snuggle.

Which then reminded me about asking Matti why and how he was so big compared to everyone else. Amarok were bigger than every other kind of wolves I’d ever met, but Henri was twice the size that Matti’s dad had been, and he’d been full Amarok.

“I don’t want you to throw up on me,” I told him instead of sliding across the bench right then and there. “It might break my heart if you did.” Then I would have to consider moving away immediately, which I would have to reconsider because I wanted this to work for Duncan, and after that, I’d be forced to avoid Henri at all costs for the rest of my life.

He narrowed his eyes. “Why would I throw up?”

I tapped the tip of my nose, not really wanting to say the words out loud again.

A slow breath slipped from his lips. His head tipped to the side, those amber eyes regarding me carefully. “Nina,” he was back to using his gentle voice, “I like the way cinnamon smells.”

“You do?”

He nodded, splaying his fingers wide on those full thighs that seemed to be straining the seams of his jeans.

Was he sure?

“You’re a human pastry,” Henri told me, meeting my gaze straight on.

I wiped my face one more time, still not sure I believed him. My voice gave it away as much as my words did. “I am?”

“You are.”

“A good pastry?” I asked, half joking, half serious. “Or the kind you get at the gas station?”

The muscles at his throat strained. “A good pastry,” he confirmed.

So he didn’t mind me in that way. Couldn’t he have just admitted that in the first place? A little bit of relief loosened my body, and I’d swear his facial expression softened at the same time, not much but some. And it was really so unexpected that I couldn’t help but smile a little as I dabbed at my face. All I said was “Oh. Thanks, Henri.”

His sigh was so soft. “Don’t.” A short groan grumbled through him. “I forget you can’t tell how I’m feeling without me saying anything. At the ranch, everyone is aware of everyone else’s emotions at all times. I don’t hide anything because I can’t. I like the way you….” He sighed once more, piercing me with a look that was real close to being pleading. “Please. Stop crying.”

I was a sucker for a few things. Big muscular men, puppies, children, and the word “please.” And coming out of Henri? I didn’t know what was wrong with me, but I couldn’t stop brushing tears off my face.

He looked at me for another second, his expression going almost pained before he scooted across the bench seat until he sat right beside me.

I watched as he slipped a hand between my back and the cushion, and then, with his opposite hand, he gently wiped under one of my eyes and then the other. And while I sat there, in a mix of sadness for the past and the present, fear of the unknown future, and the most unexpected kind of surprise as the hand he’d used on my tears went to his nose. He took a sniff of his damp finger, the tendon at his throat flexing, and before I could ask what that was about, he moved again. That palm went to the back of my head, and he drew my forehead to his shoulder.

I let him.

I let my head fall to the spot along his thick trap muscle and neck, as he sighed, “Poor little Cricket.”

My bones might have well been nonexistent the way I slumped against him even more. I was human jelly. Cinnamon jelly according to him.

He wasn’t my parents, Matti, Sienna, or Duncan, but this didn’t feel wrong. Didn’t feel cheap. It made me feel better.

Henri made me feel better.

“You’ll see Matti and Sienna again.” His warm fingers on my skin felt like straight magic. “I haven’t lived anywhere new in a long time, but I know it’s hard. You’ll settle in with time.”

I’d been so caught up on keeping my shit together that I hadn’t let myself appreciate the way he smelled again. How much I liked it. Up close, it was even better the second time around. It took all the strength in my body to act normal, to breathe like I always did when his natural body odor and deodorant smelled like rain and cedar.

His fingertips moved, skimming along my back through the thin material of my shirt. I could feel the heat of his palm on the back of my head. His breath was soft on my ear like he had his head bent toward me.

I wasn’t starved for affection, but….

“You’ll make more friends,” he seemed to promise in a steady, strong voice.

I didn’t trust mine, or really even myself, honestly, so all I did was nod. I wanted to tell him that I wasn’t too worried about making new friends, but that was a lie. There were a lot of things I was uncertain about, things I was mourning that were human-shaped and not human-shaped, and that was the freaking truth.

And fortunately for me, he smelled good, and he was warm, and he was being so nice, and I knew he would have done this for anyone getting upset around him. He’d said everyone on the ranch was his, and I believed that he believed it. By default, I guess that made me the same, in a way.

One of many.

But it was something.

Being needed could be such a crippling thing, but it could also give you more purpose than you could ever imagine. It could make the crappiest day brighter. I understood that firsthand now.

So I wasn’t going to pull away and not take what was offered. What I was going to do was sit there and soak up his scent and the reassurance his body gave me. He was no Matti, his presence was no warm, friendly hug to my soul, but it was something nice in a totally different way. Like hugging a domesticated bear.

And after a few breaths, he shifted a little, and I took it as my sign to lift my head. “Better?” he asked. He hadn’t scooted back, and his nose was right there, inches from mine.

He was gorgeous with those cheekbones and square jaw.

“Much better. Thank you,” I told him, giving him a real smile. I felt much better.

Henri looked at me for a second longer, like he was making sure he believed me, then he tipped his chin after a moment. “You hungry?”

“I’m always hungry.”

The muscles around his mouth didn’t move, but his eyes crinkled a little. “Let’s grab a bite then.”

I nodded, patted my cheeks one more time, and got out. He was already waiting for me behind the truck, that stern, no-nonsense expression over his features. He was a real-life action hero standing there.

And then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a string of beads.

It was my bracelet.

Without doing more than briefly meeting my eyes, he closed the distance between us, took my right wrist, and slipped my bracelet on me. His palm covered the beads and my wrist. “You don’t need to hide who you are,” he told me, his thumb touching the soft notch where my hand met my forearm, “but it’s your decision. I’ll give you Duncan’s collar later.”

My lips were formed into a little O, but I nodded, meeting his bright gaze fully.

He didn’t say anything as he looked at where his finger rested. His skin was a little creamier than mine, but very tan. When he let go a moment later, he stuffed his hand into his pocket, and we headed into the diner side by side, with him opening the door for me.

I hadn’t been paying attention when we’d parked, and I was surprised to find the inside was a real retro 50s diner. The floor was checkered, the vinyl booth seats pink, the black tabletops sparkling. There was even a jukebox. A waitress assisting a table was dressed in a cute black-and-pink skirt and button-up, short-sleeved shirt.

But it was the magic coming from every inch of the place that struck me more than the décor.

It was coming from the waitress, from behind the counter—where there were two other women in the same uniform—and beyond them, from the kitchen.

They were all magical beings of some kind.

Fingers nudged at my forearm, and Henri gestured with his head toward the corner booth. I followed him, glancing around some more, taking in the handful of tables that had people at them. I took a seat across from him, my butt squeaking on the bench.

The employees were watching us. Staring, more like it.

One of the women behind the counter broke away from whatever she was saying to the other employee—a blonde who was making a face I wouldn’t call friendly—and came over, picking up a single menu on the way. She was pretty with dark hair and big dark eyes, maybe in her early thirties.

Something about her seemed familiar.

“Hi,” she called out while she was halfway across the restaurant. Her eyes flicked back and forth between Henri and me, almost… nervously?

My phone beeped with an incoming text, and I took it out of my fanny pack.

Sienna: Miss you already.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” the man across the booth muttered maybe a whole second after I’d finished reading the text.

I laughed, but I doubted either of us were surprised when it came out watery. I showed him the screen with one hand and wiped at my eyes with my other. “It’s Sienna’s fault,” I explained as the dark-haired waitress arrived at the table.

She set the menu down in front of me, leaving nothing for Henri.

“Morning, Phoebe,” he greeted her in a very polite tone, almost gentle.

She didn’t feel like a predator to me, and the more I looked at her, the more that sensation that I was missing something got stronger. For some reason, her magic felt familiar, but I couldn’t pinpoint where I’d sensed something similar to it….

I smiled at the woman named Phoebe, confirmed by the name tag on her chest. Her round, brown eyes met mine, and I knew there was no missing how shiny mine were. “Hi,” I said, picking up the menu.

“Water for you, Henri? What would you like to drink, Nina?” she asked.

I read through the drink options, and said, “A vanilla milkshake, please.”

She knows my name? I lifted my face, trying to figure that out too. “I’ll be back with your drinks,” she told us before I had a chance to guess.

The second she turned, I peeked around the side of her to see that the other employees were still eavesdropping and watching. The way they had their hands over their mouths told me one thing—they were talking about us. Or I might be inflating my own ego, and they were just talking about Henri.

I barely heard him say, “You don’t recognize her, do you?”

“She looks familiar, but I don’t know why,” I whispered to him. It wasn’t like I’d met that many people within a 100-mile radius of here to begin with.

“She doesn’t have as many freckles when she isn’t in her satyr form.”

My eyes went wide. “That’s why she looks different!”

Henri nodded.

It was Shiloh’s mom. I went “ohhhhh” in realization. “I feel dumb.” I laughed.

“I forgot again,” he told me, tapping the side of his nose. She would’ve smelled the same.

I nodded. “I’ve never had your senses, so I don’t know what I’ve been missing out on, but the more we talk about it, the more it feels like a lot,” I joked.

“It can make life less complicated, but it can make it a hell of a lot harder too when you’re forced to always tell the truth and deal with it because you can’t lie about anything.”

“And then if someone does lie, it makes it that much worse when you know they are,” I agreed. When I’d been very young, I remembered how long it had taken me to get over trying to lie to my parents about little things I thought they would get mad about.

It made me feel like crap, and I still felt guilty over certain things I’d tried to get away with, even if they were small and inconsequential now. Having to confront issues might seem like a curse sometimes, but it really wasn’t. Resentment built problems.

Henri nodded. “No matter how good a liar someone thinks they are, they’re never good enough.”

The way he said that made it seem like he had a lot of experience dealing with that kind of thing. Being in law enforcement and in his position in the community, he probably did.

Lowering my attention, I read through the menu. They had three different kinds of steaks, one with mashed potatoes, another with french fries, and a third option with a side salad. Bison and elk were also listed.

This was definitely a diner that catered to carnivorous magical beings.

As much as I enjoyed steak, I wanted comfort more. A BLT on the menu made my stomach grumble. I closed the laminated pages and sat back.

I clasped my hands together and smiled at the man across from me. I didn’t want to ruin his lunch being weepy. “You already know what you’re ordering?”

“Ribeye,” he answered, his intense gaze unwavering.

“That’s what your cousin orders every time it’s on the menu.”

“It has the best ratio of fat in the cut.” He set his hands on top of the table, those long fingers linked together, his light, caramel skin popping against the counter. The only jewelry he had on was a military-grade watch with a shiny, digital face.

“How many times have you moved?” he asked, surprising me with his change in subject.

“Since I started living in my trailer?” I hadn’t really traveled to that many places before I’d bought it. After leaving the small town where we’d grown up, Sienna and I had moved to Santa Fe, where I had learned the depths of my dislike of living among a lot of people. But for her, I had stuck around while we took six and a half years to finish school, both of us getting degrees in nothing we actually went on to use and barely passing our classes. Working full-time and going to school was not for the weak. By that point, I had maxed myself out on Santa Fe.

But I knew that wasn’t what he was asking when Henri dipped his chin. I still told him about it anyway. “I don’t know if we have time to go over everywhere, but I’m pretty sure I’ve stayed at almost every RV or state park on the west coast at least once, a few multiple times. I spent a year in Arizona, another year in California, months in New Mexico, but not where we lived….” I shrugged. “Everywhere, Fluff. Northern Colorado. I’d never heard of Lobo Springs. I didn’t know a place like this could exist. South Dakota and Wyoming are the closest I’ve ever experienced, but it doesn’t compare to here. This place feels like a nuclear reactor of m-a-g-i-c.”

Henri’s fingers stretched on the table. “There’s a place in Alaska that’s rich. Banff and parts close to Thunder Bay feel the most similar, but still not on our level.”

Matti had mentioned the place in Alaska already. “Really? I’ve never been to any of those places.” What were the chances these places were all located in the wilderness? Or maybe that was why there was so much wilderness.

Ancient conspiracy theory there.

“It’s where the majority of communities like ours are located, ’least the successful ones.” He was back to talking so low I had to put all my focus into paying attention and reading his lips.

“Are there a lot? I know of this one because of you and your cousin, and one in Kansas that I can think of, but that was because I was eavesdropping on a conversation outside my trailer. They weren’t saying good things about it.”

“If it’s the one I know of, the people running it are idiots, and it’s a miracle they’re still around,” he replied. “There aren’t a lot of communities. Only a handful around the same size; there are more that are smaller. Mostly extended family units. Streets in small towns where every neighbor is magical.”

“I know about streets like that.” Like where home had been. The whole street had been magical—not that anyone ran around in their other form or anything, but more than a few times, someone’s “big dog” had gotten loose and been spotted. We’d had a lot of Irish wolfhounds that made rare but special appearances at night.

Wolfhounds. Whoever had come up with that excuse was clever. “Your family really left all this land to you?” I asked him.

Henri nodded. “My father’s family, yes. My—Matti’s dad relinquished his rights.”

Something told me he probably wouldn’t appreciate having that conversation out loud in front of so many nosey people. I moved on. “How do you afford the property taxes?”

This man looked me right in the eye as he answered, “With money.”

I slumped forward, forehead hovering over the table, and started laughing. “Who are you?”

The faintest, tiniest little smile crossed that grave mouth when I peeked up at him.

I was in the middle of doing that—watching his serious mouth fighting a smirk—when Shiloh’s mom returned. She set my milkshake down first and then the glass of water. “Do you know what you want to order?” she asked, her body language back to being uncomfortable. Maybe nervous.

The point was, she wasn’t at ease. Whether it was me or Henri, I had no idea. She had gotten really startled that other day when he’d raised his voice. I’d had my bracelet on when we’d met, and it was back on now, but… dang it, I was going to need to get this conversation over with as soon as possible. Today, if I could. There was no reason for me to put this stuff off. I didn’t want to tiptoe for the rest of my life.

I held the menu out. “A BLT with fries, please.”

“Sure.” Phoebe smiled almost shyly at Henri. “Your usual?”

“I’d appreciate it,” he answered, back to using his softer tone.

“I’ll be back with your orders.” Her voice was low before retreating, and I wondered if that was how she usually spoke when she wasn’t on the verge of strangling her child for making reckless decisions that put him in jeopardy.

I wrapped my hand around my opposite wrist where my bracelet sat. “Henri, is she usually nervous around everyone, or is it me?”

He took a sip of his water, and I wondered if he was picking his words or if he was just thirsty. “Both, I think.”

That helped.

He tilted his head to the side, raising one of his hands up to slide over the short ends of the hair above his ear. “She moved here before Shiloh was born. I don’t know what her situation was like before, but I’ve met enough satyrs to know most of them are skittish.”

He had a point.

“People are scared of what they don’t understand on the best of terms.” I smiled, half in resignation and half in acceptance of a universal truth. “I went out on an offshore fishing trip once, and we were able to jump into the ocean, a hundred miles from shore, and I was scared the whole time. I didn’t know what else was in the water, under my feet. Imagine sleeping next to someone that all your instincts tell you is a danger.”

“That’s never made sense, why people waste their time being scared of things they can’t control. Isn’t it worse knowing something is coming and you can’t do anything about it?”

I stopped in the middle of peeling the wrapper off my straw.

He took another sip of his water.

“I’ve never thought about it like that.” I balled up the paper and set my straw into the glass. “Scary is scary, I guess, regardless of whether you can see it or you can’t. If it’s logical or not. Maybe the only thing you can do is learn to manage the things that you fear. You know? Break them down. Reason them out if you can.” I thought about it some more. “But there’s some stuff that no amount of reasoning will make more bearable.” I took a sip and raised my eyebrows in surprise. Ooh, it was good.

I looked around the diner one more time. The waitresses, including Phoebe, were behind the counter. Some of them were doing a crappy job at being discreet as they peeked at us. Or attempted to listen in to our conversation.

“Did you say scary is scary?” Henri asked, drawing my attention back to him.

I nodded. “Yeah. It is.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment as he watched me from across the table. “What scares you?”

“Lots of things.”

“Like?” He drew the word out.

It was unnecessary how much pleasure this conversation was bringing me. I wanted to think it was mostly because this version of Henri Blackrock at forty-ish was someone new and unexpected, so different from the serious introvert that hadn’t exactly avoided responsibilities when he’d been a teenager but definitely hadn’t been an overprotective or overly affectionate person. He had always just… kind of been there, when he was around.

So maybe it was his growth that drew me to him the most, wanting to see just how much he’d changed over time. How he was a member of law enforcement who considered other people his responsibility, under his protection, with a visible soft spot for little kids. Who lowered his voice around skittish people. Who would comfort someone upset.

A man who was curious and had a sarcastic and funny streak in him too.

Buttttt I wasn’t going to overanalyze it or make more out of it than I needed to. Not in front of him, at least.noveldrama

“Taxes,” I answered.

He leaned against the back of the bench.

“Late fees.”

The muscles in his right cheek twitched.

“Ticks.”

Was that really the start of a smile on his face?

I lifted a shoulder. “Mortgage interest rates?”

Yeah, it was.

“My credit score. That thing scares me too.”

It wasn’t just his cheeks giving him away, it was the glimmer in his eye, too. The crinkles at the corners of them. “Your score is good, but you should open another credit card.”

I dropped my voice. “You checked my credit?” I wasn’t mad about it, but… I hadn’t expected it… and how had he gotten my social?

“Had to. We can’t have bill collectors or the government poking around.” He looked so nonchalant. “The elders told you we would do a background check in the meeting—” Henri’s mouth slammed shut in the middle of his sentence. His head whipped to the side, to where there was a wall of windows between us and the parking lot.

I did the same, wondering what could make him react like that.

A man stood beside a truck parked a few spots down from mine, arms crossed over his chest, glaring in the direction of the building.

A slow, deep rush of breath left Henri’s lungs on an exhale right before he slid out of the booth. His expression and tone were icy when he met my eyes. “I’ll be back. Wait here.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to ask if he wanted backup, but this man was six foot six, close to three hundred pounds was my guess, and I wasn’t about to insult him.

Plus, I didn’t want to get involved in things unless I had to… or if he asked.

Now, if the man outside did something really stupid, that would change the situation, but in the meantime, I sat there and agreed.

I ceased to exist as he walked out, and I watched him cross the parking lot and come to a stop a few feet away from the stranger. The man was tall, but not on the same level as the one who had comforted me earlier.

Henri had sat there, held me to his shoulder, and cuddled me—his words, not mine.

Henri Blackrock had cuddled me.

And now he was out in the parking lot, in front of a silver truck with wide tires and shiny rims, arms loose at his sides as the blond stranger said something angrily, the muscles of his biceps and forearms bulging as he expressed himself. I couldn’t sense his magic from this far away.

But he was worked up about something. His face was turning red.

I set my hand down on the bench beside me, ready to start scooting out.

A plate stacked high with a three-layer sandwich and fries slid onto the table in front of me before a different meal was placed directly across from it. Phoebe stood there, her big brown eyes focused on the two men outside. Her lips were pursed.

I’d always known I had very little shame. “Do you know who that is?” I asked her.

I thought it said something that she glanced over her shoulder, toward her coworkers, before whispering, “Dominic.”

This was him? The guy that Henri had let punch him? I frowned and squinted out the window, finding them in the exact position they’d been in before. With Dominic prattling on, and Henri resembling a volcano about to erupt. I thought I could see a hint of a black eye….

I glanced back at her and frowned some more. She seemed concerned. “Do I need to go save Henri?” I whispered back.

Her eyes widened. “Save Henri?” She gave me a look that said she didn’t think I could save anyone. It was all pink cheeks and raised eyebrows. “No… I don’t think so.”

“You just seem a little worried,” I told her, though she’d seemed concerned the last time I’d seen her too.

Phoebe glanced over her shoulder one more time before saying, “He’s… difficult.”

I’d gotten that already.

But this was Henri. He’d only gotten hurt before because he’d let it happen, so he’d said, but I believed him. More than anything though, I’d bet on him being able to take care of himself, especially in public. It was more than the inches of height and weight he had on the other man too; it was just that sense of being so capable that radiated from him at all times… the whole two days we’d seen each other before now, but I didn’t doubt my instincts, not where he was concerned at least.

He’d gone head-to-head with a sasquatch a couple days ago and not given a crap.

And since I didn’t know the next time I’d have an opportunity to talk to her in private, I figured I had to take advantage of it. There wasn’t much he and the other man could do other than fistfight. The blond was still ranting.

I dropped my voice again. “Phoebe, I just wanted to tell you really quick that I’m sorry if I’ve alarmed you.” Most people would never want to admit their fears to anyone, especially not a stranger. I sure wouldn’t. “I don’t mean anyone at the ranch any harm. I was only trying to help the kids that day with the river creature. I don’t even kill ants if I can help it.

“I hope that you’re willing to get to know me. I know I smell different to some people, and you have no reason to believe that I’m a good person, but I think I am.” I offered up another smile, a smaller one. “If you don’t feel comfortable with me, I’m more than willing to talk to you about it. This place is your home, and you were here first.” There was no way I was going to go straight into offering to leave, not without trying to win her over, but I wanted her to be aware that I was willing to try, so she would feel obligated too.

At no point did I expect her to sigh or for her body to visibly relax at just words, but that’s what happened. This woman, who was also a satyr, honestly seemed a little relieved. “I’m sorry, Nina.”

It was hard not to smile a little.

“Shiloh has said nothing but the nicest things about you. He’s told me the story about the day with the creature at least ten times,” she said. “I trust his intuition more than I do anyone else’s, even my husband’s, because he’s a sensitive boy.”

“He’s a very nice boy,” I agreed.

She glanced over her shoulder one more time before continuing. “I’m not comfortable around strangers, and that has nothing to do with you.” Her hands fidgeted at her waist. “I should have told you thank you that day, or any day since, but my mind was in full-blown panic. Shiloh has a thank-you card he made, but he’s grounded right now….”

Phoebe blew out a little breath, like she was calming herself down. Her hands came up to her chest, one overlapping the other. “From the bottom of my heart, and my husband’s, we’re going to be grateful to you for the rest of our lives for what you did for him and the children. If there’s ever anything my family can do for you, please let us know. We’re in your debt.”

My face had started going pink from the moment she started with her gratitude, and I couldn’t imagine what color it was then, but I still kept my voice low and said, “You’re welcome. Any time. Except I hope they never do something like that again.” I paused. “But we’re okay then? Or at least we will be?”

Phoebe the satyr gave me a shy smile. “Yes. I appreciate you talking to me about it. I’ve been here for six years, and I still can’t make eye contact with Henri or most of them, really.”

I looked her dead in the eye and said, “If they scare you, bite them.”

She went pale. “B-bite them?”

“Sure. I bit Henri when I first saw him and he scared me,” I admitted, stretching the truth just a little. He had scared me in the way that I had panicked he would hurt Duncan.

Her eyes went round. “I thought Shiloh made that up!”

I shook my head.

Phoebe giggled, and it was a good laugh, very cute and fitting for her.

Might as well egg it on, I figured. “It was like biting Clifford. I found hair in my mouth hours later.” I hadn’t, he’d been in his human form, but she didn’t need to know that.

She smiled before one of the other waitresses called her name. Her narrow face went resolved. “I know you don’t know anyone, and I don’t have a lot of time, but I was wondering… maybe one day, if you have time… we could… like you said, get to know each other. Go grocery shopping? Or run errands….”

I was nodding before she’d even finished her offer. “I’d like that.” That sounded way less pressure-y than getting coffee or something else. The more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea, and I nodded some more.

Then I remembered.

“Actually,” I dropped my voice to the tiniest whisper. “There’s something I need to tell you before we make plans.”

That made her nervous.

“I already told the elders, but—” I scrunched up my nose. “—you should know that women who spend a lot of time around me become pregnant. I told them to tell all of you, but I’m not sure they have.”

The woman, who had to be around my age, dropped into a crouch, one hand on the table, the other on the bench. Her eyes were wider than ever. Her voice so quiet I barely heard her. “It’s true?”

So people had been told. What a relief. I nodded.

Her eyes roamed my face, like she was searching for a lie or trying to confirm some other way that I was pulling her leg. After a moment, when the same waitress who had called her name did it again, a small smile came over her mouth that was somehow the brightest one of all of them. “We heard, but….”

“It’s true. I just need to throw the disclaimer out there. If you talk to anyone else about it, around the ages of when you can get pregnant, please tell them. I don’t want to wear a shirt with a warning sign that says Stay Back 50 Feet or Get Pregnant,” I told her with a small smile.

The concern disappeared. Phoebe looked happy. “I’ll spread the word, but that’s not… I don’t see anyone complaining about that.”

She hadn’t heard my neighbors in the past when they’d found out they were unexpectedly pregnant. Sienna’s excellent hearing, and our thin apartment walls, had kept us in a lot of loops. Some days, we’d sit on our couch and instead of watching TV, she would eavesdrop on the neighbors and repeat what was going on.

Dang it, I missed her again already.

“Thank you, Nina,” my hopefully-friend-in-the-near-future whispered. “Thank you,” she repeated, backing away as her name was called once more.

I hadn’t expected that, but it lifted my spirits to the freaking skies, maybe beyond.

And I’d forgotten all about Henri.

Through the window, I saw the two men were still out there. The other man was still talking, and Henri stood there like he might be listening, but he might also be contemplating murder. I ate a fry and watched him shake his head at whatever the blond was saying.

I ate more fries, taking a bite and then another of my BLT while the man kept going and going, and Henri got more visibly frustrated by the second. I swear his ears were turning red. When I was halfway through my fries, Henri said something that had the other man’s face going redder than his ears before the werewolf turned and came inside without a second glance.

He was definitely pissed when he shot a dirty look toward one of the waitresses—the blonde who had been making faces—before sliding into the booth.

Matti ate fries sometimes….

Pushing my plate across the table, I used my clean fork to scoop three onto Henri’s plate before pulling it back toward my side.

I kept my gaze away from him while I started eating again. He sighed after a minute, ate each of the fries, then picked up his utensils and started in on one of his two steaks. Nothing else. Neither of us said a word while we finished our food, and it wasn’t until he set his knife and fork down that I peeked at him.

I couldn’t help myself. “So that was the infamous Dominic?”

He sipped his water, his throat bobbing with the swallow. His cheek was tight again. “Yeah,” the fountain of information answered, gritting his teeth the whole time, the action saying a hell of a lot about what had happened out there.

Did I want to know? Of course I did, but it wasn’t my business, so I didn’t ask more intrusive questions. I’d already overused my needy card today. So instead, I folded my napkin into a little accordion while Phoebe brought the check. I put cash down, which got me a look from Henri, who hesitated while he alternated between me and the receipt. After a minute, he put his card down along with the cash.

“I’ll text you,” I told Phoebe after I’d typed in her number, which had been on the check, into my contacts.

“Okay,” she agreed with another shy smile. “See you, Henri.”

He nodded at her, then tipped his head at me. We got out of the booth and headed outside and got in my truck. I pulled onto the main street through town. Lobo Springs, my new home.

The population was 3,000, the sign coming into town said. Elevation 7012, though it had to be higher at the ranch. They had an elementary school and a small high school, but I hadn’t seen a middle school. There were even two churches. I wasn’t sure why, but that got me thinking about other things.

“What is it?” Henri’s voice was loud in the cab.

“What’s what?”

“That look on your face.”

That got me to side-eye him. I patted my cheek with my fingertips. I hadn’t made a face. I hadn’t even been thinking negative thoughts or even good ones, not enough for him to pick up on. I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell him what had been on my mind either, not with the mood he was in after his visitor.

I tried to think of something believable, but nothing came to mind fast enough.

“It’s still there,” he accused. “We’ve got a thirty-minute drive left, you might as well tell me.” He paused. “I can try to guess too.”

This man… he looked so gruff and serious, and beneath that rough exterior, the sarcasm ran deeper than the Styx. Why couldn’t he pretend not to notice my mind was on other things? Not even Matti and Sienna called me out on my crap constantly. They let me get away with things from time to time. It was called privacy.

“Cricket….”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “When did you get to be this chatty, by the way?”

That got him.

“You think I’m talkative?” He sounded surprised.

“Compared to teenage Fluffy? Yes.”

There was a pause. “I can’t get a whole lot across grunting at people all day,” he claimed.

He had a point. “Nothing’s bothering me,” I clarified.

He didn’t say a thing. He sat there, his eyes burning a hole into the side of my face.

I blew out my breath, realizing he wasn’t going to drop this. “If you’re going to insist, everything is all right. I was just thinking about how I don’t know anything about what happened to you after you graduated and lived with Matti and his family for a while. I never even knew why you moved in with them in the first place.”

The snicker he let out wasn’t what I was expecting. Neither was the “Nina” he kind of chuckled in that ridiculous velvet voice, that was warmth and richness. “That’s what your mind was on?”

I waved my right hand at him. “Yeah. You’re so secretive about some things.” I thought about it. “I’d like to be friends, Fluff. I don’t want you to hate having me around for asking a bunch of questions or making you talk about stuff you don’t want to.” I shrugged. “And you have a cute chuckle, if you want to know that too. There? Are you happy now?”

There was a moment of silence so strong I considered opening my car door and tucking and rolling on the way out.

But before I could consider all the reasons why I wouldn’t do it, he asked in a funny voice, “You always this honest?”

I snorted. “No, but you weren’t going to drop it, and I figured I might as well get it off my chest and save us both time. What have you been doing for the last eighteen years?”

He angled his body against the corner of the door and the seat, attention still on me. He crossed his arms over his chest, flexing those arms that belonged on a men’s health magazine. “Matti hasn’t even been gone a couple hours, and you’re already giving me a hard time” was what he replied with.

“I was minding my own business. You’re giving me a hard time.” I glanced at him real quick sitting in my passenger seat.

He gave me the most nonchalant look. “You can ask whatever you want to ask. I don’t hate you being here, and we are… friends.”

There had been a pause there, and a part of me wanted to pry at it, give it a little poke, see what happened, but a bigger part of me, the part that was scared what might come out if I did that, said I better not. It said I should take what I’d been given and be happy with it. If Henri said we were friends, then we were friends. That needed to be enough.

I shifted in my seat. “Does that mean you’re going to tell me what you did in all those years?”

Part of Henri’s mouth formed into a smirk, and that same man I knew, and yet didn’t know, shook his head. “Nope, but it doesn’t mean you can’t ask.”

I snickered, and I didn’t imagine his smirk getting a little wider before he said the one thing I needed to hear more than anything else.

“You’re going to be just fine here, Nina,” he predicted. “I’ve got a good feeling about it.”